


Take Me Back

by Violet_Rose_Of_Darkness



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Alive Hannah Baker, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Rape/Non-con, Depression, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hannah Baker Deserved Better, Hannah Baker needs a hug, Healing, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Oblivious Clay Jensen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Tony Padilla, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 11:00:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24968593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violet_Rose_Of_Darkness/pseuds/Violet_Rose_Of_Darkness
Summary: Hannah survives her suicide attempt, but she and Clay still have to survive life at Liberty. With Bryce Walker roaming free and others who would do anything to shut them up, will they get through it? Or will Hannah be undertaken by high school once again? AU
Relationships: Clay Jensen & Tony Padilla, Hannah Baker & Clay Jensen, Hannah Baker & Tony Padilla, Hannah Baker/Clay Jensen, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 31
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I'll say this right now, I have not finished season four. I've just been listening to The Night We Met too much lately and I really, really miss Hannah. I also miss when Clay was the best character, not that I'm salty (I'm really salty). So this is a chance for them both to get their happy ending. Please enjoy!

She wasn't supposed to wake up.

But here she was. Hannah stared up at the white walls of the hospital she'd been brought to. Vaguely, she wondered where he plan had failed. It had been crafted to perfection; she knew Tony wouldn't want to get mixed up in her drama. She knew her parents had been really busy with the store lately. She knew Clay would duck his head and stay out of it, as per usual.

She knew no one else would give a shit.

So what had gone wrong? Why was she still here?

Fuck, she didn't want to be here. Nothing could ever fucking go her way.

Hannah sighed, weakly raising her right wrist. The stitches were still fresh and a part of her wanted to tear them out, to release the blood that was still trapped within her. It was almost as though it was begging to gush out of her, like it had in the bathtub.

"Hannah, honey?"

Oh yeah, her mom was there. She'd almost forgotten she wasn't alone. Or maybe she hadn't and maybe it just hurt to look at her mother's red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained face. Hannah forced herself to look at the woman. "Yeah?" The word came out a lot less gentle than she'd intended. She couldn't do anything right, could she?

Mom looked like she was going to burst with tears any minute. "Why?" she managed through an obviously closed up throat.

Hannah took a deep breath, trying to keep her own tears at bay. This was the last thing she had wanted. She hadn't wanted to hurt Mom or Dad or Tony or... Helmet. But damn, it was all too much. From Justin Foley to Bryce fucking Walker, she couldn't take it. And, unfortunately, the bad outweighed the good.

Of course, she wasn't supposed to have survived. Now everything was a goddamn mess.

So, she settled on, "It's complicated."

OoOoOo

When Clay got the call, his heart stopped.

He was peddling over to Crestmont General Hospital before he could even register what he was doing. Of course, the hospital was about forty-five minutes away and it wasn't like his bike was very fast. Especially since it was so old. Still, that didn't stop him from trying, his heart in his throat as he frantically urged his feet to move faster.

Luckily, a similar bright red Mustang met him halfway.

Tony rolled down the window, his dark eyes shadowed with something heavy. Something he couldn't quite name. "Get in," instructed the Hispanic.

Clay did so, putting his bike in the back and clambering into the front seat. His friend sped off as soon as the door was closed. "How did you know how to find me?" he asked after a while.

Tony only glanced at him. "I'm the one who called you," he reminded him. "I figured any decent friend would want to get the hospital as soon as possible." He seemed distracted, like there was something he was hiding.

Clay sighed, his right hand running across the dashboard. "She... hurt herself?" he questioned. The words sounded wrong in association with Hannah Baker. She never let anything bother her. Half the school had labeled her and she'd kept her head up. Her strength was something he'd always admired about her.

Why would she do this?

Tony's hands tightened on the wheel. "Yeah," he replied, his voice hoarse. "It looks like that's the story." He was hiding something, Clay was sure of it. What did Tony know?

Clay fixed him with a hard stare. "Why?" he demanded. The lump in his throat wouldn't go away. That seemed to be the question. Why would Hannah hurt herself? Why did Tony know more than he was letting on? Why did it feel like something bigger was going on?

Tony paused for half a second before pulling into the parking lot. His eyes tore away from the road to look at Clay. "That's something she has to tell you herself," he replied cryptically. He said nothing more as they both climbed out of the Mustang and ventured toward the hospital.

A myriad of questions danced on Clay's tongue, but died out as they entered the building.

OoOoOo

It was hard to believe she wasn't dead.

She felt like she was. Her whole body was numb, though that was probably the pain killers. Apparently, she'd needed a blood transfusion before they'd stitched her up. According to the doctor, she'd been lucky. A minute later and they would have lost her. Right, lucky. Feeling her heart pound in her rib cage and her wrists burn, she didn't feel so lucky.

Hannah wasn't naive. She wasn't under the impression that death would have granted her happiness or catharsis. But feeling nothing at all had seemed so much more appealing than the alternative. She'd rather have been six feet under than walking through those damned halls, people pointing and whispering. Than having to walk around, 'slut' practically written on her forehead.

Than having to pass Bryce Walker in the halls everyday.

She had to admit, though it had been a collection of things, Bryce's assault on her had been what pushed suicide into her head. Compared to Jessica and Alex ditching her or Courtney spreading rumors about her, it was almost as though the jock had stabbed her soul directly, twisting the knife until she had no more blood to bleed.

Though, the pain she had stirred in her parents was a direct attack on her heart.

Mom and Dad had made it on the Reasons Why Not list. Maybe they weren't the most attentive and maybe they were a bit careless sometimes, but they loved her. She was sure of this. Even if Dad had made a mistake. Even if Mom could be flippant.

They loved her. And she had hurt them.

Her reasons why not. Mom, Dad, Helmet, someday, maybe... It was so hard to see a future from the dark cloud that constantly hung over her. But New York was waiting for her, wasn't it? If she could do something with her life, publish something worth reading. Love a daughter (or son) of her own unconditionally.

Oh look at her. Dreaming of someday when she certainly had no future. Especially not now. She wasn't supposed to have survived and now that she had, everything was messed up.

Just another string of rumors to add to her mill.

"Hannah?"

Bile rose in her throat at the voice. Slowly, not quite believing her ears, Hannah turned to meet the lovely, sky blue eyes of Clay Jensen standing in the threshold. God, the kid looked even paler than usual, his eyes wide and terrified. For her or of her, she was unsure.

She had done that.

A little behind him stood Tony. His brown eyes were guilty, though she wasn't sure why. Tony had almost nothing to do with any of this, neither a reason why or why not. He floated somewhere in the middle, an ally she could call on, though not one she could always rely on. He stayed out of business that wasn't his, how could she fault him for that?

She couldn't.

But god, the tapes. She'd left them with Tony in hopes that he would make sure everyone included got them. She had hoped that in doing so, she would be able to prevent another person from going through this. To steel them from the charms of the Justin's of the world. To protect them from the careless cruelty Bryce's of the world.

She'd wanted her death to change people, to change Liberty and high schools everywhere. But she was alive. And now things were even more fucked up.

But Hannah forced a smile on her face. "Hey, Helmet," she greeted. "Long time no see." She remembered the last time she had talked to Clay. He had complimented her on her haircut. Something random, but something that had put a smile on her face nonetheless. It had been delivered in such a Helmet way, awkward and stuttered, but it had meant the world to her.

She'd been content, knowing that they would be the last words she heard before she died.

Apparently, though, that wasn't the case.

Clay stepped toward her, but didn't get far. He stopped just beyond the door frame. Horror was etched onto every inch of his face and it was making her feel even worse.

Hannah sighed. "I- You weren't supposed to see this," she stuttered out. She cringed at her own words, aware of how pathetic they sounded.

Suddenly, Clay was seated in one of the stiff waiting chairs. He stared at her for a moment, utter helplessness emitting from him. He had always reminded her of a little mouse, hiding from the ferocious cats that were the students of Liberty High. Given the chance, they would tear him apart limb from limb.

Which was why he ducked his head and stayed out of it. Although, being friends with Jeff Atkins had helped. Jeff had been a good- a great- friend and had kept the assholes- sorry, jocks- away from Clay.

Anger welled inside her. It was because of Sheri that Clay had lost that. The one person who deserved every good thing and he'd had to suffer the lost of his best friend. But, then again, could she really talk? She'd nearly done the same when she'd cut her wrists open.

That horror on his face? She'd caused it.

Clay reached toward her, presumably for her hand. He hesitated- she didn't blame him, that was the side that had the IV connected to it- but then his fingers curled around her hers. For the first time in months, her heart felt warm in her chest.

"Helmet," she whispered. Hell, she had missed the gentleness of his touch. Had longed for the tenderness in his gaze. That night at Jessica's party had been a night of regret all around. She often wondered how different things would have been had she just let him in. Maybe Jeff wouldn't have died. Maybe she wouldn't have ended up in that hot tub.

He didn't say anything, but his bottom lip was trembling. God, he looked like he was going to cry. She hoped he didn't. If Clay of all people started to cry, she would follow right after him. And that would mean feeling something.

Hannah was sick of feeling. Feeling led to pain.

But with Clay... it was often the opposite.

OoOoOo

Every inch of Clay hurt.

Seeing Hannah- aloof, resilient, lively Hannah Baker- so pale and... apathetic hit him directly in the chest. It then spread through his veins to every inch of his being. Why had she done this? How could she have done this? How could he have let this happen? Her ocean blue eyes which were usually so full of light were now dark and dull.

What had happened to her?

"Hannah," began Clay, but stopped. What was he going to say to her? Ask her why she had tried to kill herself? Real eloquent, Jensen. No, he obviously couldn't do that, the last thing he wanted to do was upset her. He glanced back at Tony, but the Hispanic was looking at them both with an unreadable expression. Briefly, his stony gaze flickered and Clay wondered what that was about.

Hannah's smile was weak and didn't come close to reaching her eyes. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this," she said softly. Her thumb gently ran over his hand in a way he was sure was meant to calm him down.

It didn't. Not really.

"What happened to you?" he croaked before he could stop himself. Nothing about this situation made sense.

Or did it? He racked his brain to the past few months. How Hannah had been labeled as the class slut. How she seemed to change friends like clothes. How people shunned and spurned her without a second thought. How every time it happened, it left her a little quieter and a little sadder. And he had never done anything about it.

It was all adding up and he felt like a fool for not noticing sooner.

Hannah Baker had almost died and it was all his fault.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the response to this story has been relatively good. More so on AO3, but I expected that. It's like there's no fandom on FF. Anyway, please enjoy!

It didn't take long for her cuts to heal.

Hannah stayed in the hospital for about a week. She almost liked it; it was quiet and she was alone a lot of the time. It gave her time to think. She had decided that, in a weird way, her life hadn't ended. Not because she wanted to go on in hell, but because of how much she could have hurt her parents. They were both a mess now, what would her death have caused?

That was the last thing she wanted. She didn't want to hurt Mom or Dad or Helmet, she loved them. It must have been a testament to how evil she was if she had been willing to do so before. But she hadn't thought of their pain, only her own.

She hadn't thought of who she might hurt.

Every day, Clay would come to visit her and they would talk. Sometimes, it was about random, miscellaneous things. She found that talking about Alien Killer Robots or shitty customers at the Crestmont soothed her. It was nice to just get lost with Helmet. Occasionally, Tony was there too and they would spend their time fucking around.

It was nice.

Other times, though, she could see the heartbreak on Clay's face. The questions he wanted to ask, but didn't for fear of her emotional backlash. And she couldn't blame him. She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to discuss how Marcus had tried to force his hands up her skirt or how Ryan had published that damn poem without her permission or how Zach...

How Zach had broken her heart.

Hannah had really, really liked Zach once upon a time. He wasn't like Justin or Bryce, he didn't brag about girls like they were points to be scored. He didn't harass or bring down other students. He was almost similar to Jeff, except for one thing.

Jeff hadn't given a fuck about what other people thought.

She knew it wouldn't have lasted. Zach cared too much about what his idiot friends thought. He had never stood up for her. That was the real reason he was on her list. Not because of that stupid compliment bag thing. Yeah, it had stung a bit when he'd taken her compliments- she'd really needed them at the time- but she had gotten over it. And she knew he hadn't thrown away that letter but...

She hadn't wanted everyone else on the tapes to know about what they'd share. She could have torn into Zach about how she shouldn't have given him her virginity, but she had already been labeled as the class slut. Not only would people tear her down after she was gone, but him too. She was still cross with him, but he didn't need to hear it from Bryce or Monty or anyone else.

Still, she'd felt he deserved a tape, so she'd made one. Maybe he would get the subtext, maybe he wouldn't. There was no way of knowing now.

Clay especially didn't need to know about her time spent with Zach. She couldn't bring herself to tell him anything, really. He was so... innocent, she supposed was the word. Or maybe oblivious. The things that went on at Liberty went right over his head. Her sheltered Helmet more-or-less lived in his own bubble.

On her last day at the hospital, about an hour before Clay's usual visit, Tony walked into her room alone and closed the door. Her heart rate picked up slightly at being left alone with a guy, but she forced herself to calm down. It was just Tony. Not only was he gay, but he was also her friend. He would never hurt her.

Besides, she knew what he wanted to talk about.

Hannah regarded him. "So you listened to the tapes?" she guessed. She had figured out that it was Tony who had called the ambulance. He must have listened to her first few lines and known what she was about to do.

She hadn't counted on that. She had counted on Tony staying out of her business, as per usual.

Tony nodded, taking a seat next to her bed. "I did," he confirmed. And holy shit, she had never seen Tony Padilla look so damn sad. It was like seeing a huge rottweiler making sad puppy eyes. Jesus Christ, he looked like he was about to cry! Had she ever seen him cry? Decidedly not. "Fuck, Hannah, I'm sorry. I should have been there for you."

Hannah gave him a half shrug. "I know that you keep to yourself," she told him softly. She hadn't wanted to make him feel bad, for fuck's sake. Out of everyone, including herself, he (and Clay, of course), were the innocent ones. "I didn't want to put any attention on you." She smiled wryly. "You know what happens when people see you with the class slut."

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter," he said gruffly. "You're my friend and I should've had your back." His eyes lowered. "Like you had mine."

What was he- Oh. When she'd hidden him from the police. She remembered that day, the day that had solidified their friendship. "Yeah, well, I don't trust cops on a good day," she quipped, trying to lighten up the mood. Gently, she patted his hand. "This isn't your fault, Tony. You're a good friend."

"Not really," Tony replied sharply. She imagined he was berating himself in his head. "But I appreciate the pep talk." He looked at her very directly. "Do you still want the tapes to go around?"

One of the reasons she had entrusted them to him in the first place. Not only had she wanted someone to know her story, she knew that he would know what she wanted. Tony just got her like that.

Unfortunately, she didn't have an answer.

"I don't know," Hannah responded with a sigh. "They lose impact when I'm alive, don't they?" Besides, it was Liberty. The tapes circling around with her still alive would just mean come back to her wanting attention. But after everything that had happened, that was the last thing she'd wanted. She had planned on not being around for that. It made sense, didn't it? Why would a dead girl lie?

Why wouldn't an alive girl lie?

Tony shrugged. "They don't have to," he reasoned. "There's stuff on there that they won't want getting out. Maybe not Jessica, Alex, or Ryan, but definitely Marcus, Sheri, Courtney, and Bryce." She noticed how his gaze darkened at the last name.

Oh right, tape twelve. She's almost forgotten that she'd confessed to Bryce... It made her sick to remember. He had hurt her, he had hurt her really bad. He had hurt her in a way that she couldn't even put into words. What was worse, he would never know how much pain he'd caused her. He would never comprehend what he'd taken from her.

Hannah gave her friend a helpless look. "Who would believe me over him?" she demanded. Nobody. She was the class slut, he was the king of the fucking school. Not to mention he probably had the best lawyers. Best case scenario, he would get a slap on the wrist.

Besides, she had gone to an adult. But Mr. Porter had told her to move on.

How the fuck was she supposed to move on? How was she supposed to sleep at night when every time she closed her eyes she was back in that damn hot tub? How could she go to school when he was there in the halls? How could she go on knowing what he had taken from her? From Jess? And those were only the ones she knew about.

That had been when she'd decided. Nobody cared about Hannah Baker. And that was fine. Because Hannah Baker hadn't given a fuck anymore.

Tony pondered her question. "You said there was another girl," he reminded her. "On tape five, I think? If they come forward too, that would help, right? You know who it was, right?"

Hannah grimaced. "That's not my place." Despite the bad blood between her and Jessica, this wasn't her story to tell. Part of the reason she'd left the tapes was so that she would be able to tell her story. So that no one would twist her words against her. She needed to be able to extend Jess that same courtesy.

This was her story. Even if she didn't believe it or know it, it was hers. And she needed to tell it when she was ready and only when she was ready.

After all, Hannah had only been ready when she'd thought she would be dead. She knew some of the prices that came with admitting something like this. The disbelief. The rumors. The shaming.

How could she have survived that on top of everything else?

Tony looked at her for a minute. "Do you want Clay to listen, at least?" he asked. "He's been asking questions that I can't answer. He's worried."

Hannah thought about this. Should Clay still listen? She had made tape eleven to explain, to make sure he knew that it wasn't his fault. She'd wanted him to hear it directly from her, to tell him why. She couldn't look him in the eye and tell him everything, but maybe the tapes could do it for her? Pathetic that she didn't have the courage to talk to the person closest to her, but not a bad idea...

"I guess," she finally answered. He had a right to know, didn't he? He was her friend. She had made him worry. Besides, he was on the tapes. He was going to know anyway.

Helmet would see her in a different light, but that was fine. She didn't want to hide anything from him anymore.

OoOoOo

Tony brought the tapes and Clay listened.

He listened for hours. A full run-through was less than two hours. Clay listened to every tape three times. He analyzed Hannah's every word. He made a note of every single name; it almost felt like they were ingrained in his brain. Justin, Jessica, Alex, Tyler, Courtney, Marcus, Zach, Ryan, Sheri, Bryce, and Mr. Porter. And himself. Her pain seeped through her voice, staining his ears, and invading his heart.

How had he not noticed any of this? He'd let the 'class slut' and 'hot or not list' things fly right over his head. Why? Because he was content to live in his bubble. Why would he care about Hannah's suffering? She was tough, she could handle it.

Well, obviously she couldn't. He should have never left her at Jessica's party. If he hadn't, she would have never seen Bryce- fucking Bryce Walker- rape Jessica. She would have never gotten a ride home from Sheri. Sheri would have never hit that stop sign.

Jeff wouldn't have died.

Everything at that point had started with him. But it went further than that. Why hadn't he stood up for her once? Just once? He hadn't wanted to get involved and that was the fucking problem, wasn't it? No one wanted to be a victim so they stood by and did nothing while the actual victims suffered.

He had almost cost Hannah her life because he couldn't even be a decent friend.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Clay-" tried Tony after his third run.

"What the fuck goes on at Liberty, Tony?" demanded Clay. The way Hannah described it was like a hellhole. Apparently, people dragged your name through the fucking mud. Apparently, people sold you out to save their own asses. Apparently, the so-called kings of the school got to rape girls whenever they felt like it. Apparently, people got to treat each other like shit just because they felt like it.

And he had never fucking noticed.

Tony sighed. "A lot," he answered. "Probably more than I know about."

Clay glanced at him. "And you were gonna go down the list?" he asked. Was that what Hannah wanted? For people to suffer from their decisions? Or had she wanted to see the damage they caused? To change? The second option seemed more like Hannah.

Hannah didn't hurt people. No matter what he'd discovered about her, that remained true. She had tried to report the broken stop sign. She had tried to make amends with Jessica. She had tried to protect Courtney's reputation.

Yes, she'd yelled at him at Jessica's party, but now he knew why. She was going through so much. She had the idea in her head that she would have ruined him. She had been trying to protect him.

No, Hannah didn't hurt people. So why did everyone seem content to hurt her? Including him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you couldn't already tell, Hannah (and Clay for that matter) will be brooding a lot. These thoughts might get... dark. My AO3 readers, you already have warnings in the tags. FF readers, you do not. I want all of you to brace yourselves and make sure you can handle it, okay? AO3 readers, if I need to put more warning in the tags, let me know, okay?
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a bit of my mistake on my part, Hannah actually mailed the tapes to Justin first and gave Tony a copy. I was under the impression that it was Tony who circled them around while also keeping a copy. Whoops... Look, it's been a while since season 1. I'll try to re-watch, but there'll be some deviations. Anyway, please enjoy!

It was sickening.

Clay found himself unbearably and irrevocably angry when facing his schoolmates the day after listening to the tapes. He felt his teeth clench when Courtney Crimsen came up to talk to him. His eyes narrowed as he watched Marcus Cole talk and laugh with his friends. And when he saw Bryce Walker strutting down the damn hallways like he owned the place, he had been unaware that his feet had begun to move toward him before Tony was holding him back.

What was wrong with these people? How could they go about their lives knowing what they did? How could Justin walk down the hallways with his arm around Jessica as if... as if he hadn't let Bryce...

It made him sick to his stomach. Bryce was a rapist. It was hard to associate the word with someone he went to school with every day. How many other girls had he done this to? What the actual fuck was going through his head?

As far as the jocks went, Clay had always thought of Bryce as... okay. Was he capable of being a douche? Of course, but that was just the usual rich-kid narcissism and entitlement. Still, he wasn't nearly as bad as dicks like Montgomery de la Cruz. He didn't pick on other kids just for the hell of it and he was always decent to kids like Clay and Tyler Down.

But to know what a monster laid underneath that easygoing smile...

Hannah had been vivid in her descriptions on tape twelve. How she had been alone in the hot tub in nothing but her underwear. How Bryce had come up to her, oh so fucking casually. How he had- how-

God, he couldn't even think those words. Just the thought of Hannah being forced to... It was like a stab to his heart. It made him want to punch something and scream and cry all at the same time. So many people had hurt her. So many people had been apart of tearing her down. But Bryce... Bryce had shattered her completely. And the worst part?

The bastard had the audacity to act like he had done nothing wrong. To strut down the halls and wink at girls and joke with his stupid jock friends. This was a whole other level of fucked up. Did he even know what he did? Did he have any semblance of the pain he had caused Hannah and Jessica and who knows who else?

And Kevin fucking Porter had told her to move on. To forget about it. Who the hell could ever forget something like that? Is this what Liberty High classified as helping its students?

It was bullshit. It was all bullshit.

Clay felt akin to a ticking time bomb all day. Maybe Tony and Hannah had made a mistake in letting him listen, he only barely stopped himself from punching Justin Foley in his stupid face. That jackass was definitely near the top of the list, right after Bryce and Marcus.

It was hard, having to look at these kids so differently. Sure, guys like Bryce, Marcus, Justin, and Zach had always been jerks. But he had talked to Tyler so many times before. Sure, he could have been creepy with his camera, but he had never pegged him as a stalker. Just another outcast, like him. Courtney had always been so nice to him too. But apparently, that was just a front.

And Alex and Jessica... How could they have abandoned Hannah so easily? The three of them had been so close, he recalled, and they had just... left her. Without a second thought. And then Alex had started that stupid list. Who did that?

And how had he let it all go over his head?

OoOoOo

It was weird being home.

Hannah had never thought that she'd see these walls again. As she had laid in that bathtub, she had been sure that she'd been taking her last breaths. Unceremoniously bleeding out on her bathroom floor had seemed like a fitting end. The girl who had lived alone would die alone and no one would care any more than they had when she was alive.

But apparently, people had cared. Her parents were a mess. Tony had called an ambulance. Clay had visited her every day. Apparently, people cared. Maybe not a lot of people, but a few. They didn't want her gone.

This wasn't supposed to be happening. And yet, it was.

With a heavy sigh, Hannah inspected her wrists. The cuts were healed, pale pink scars in their places. Cutting her wrists horizontally wouldn't have done it, she knew. They would heal too quickly and didn't bleed nearly enough.

Doing her research, she had discovered that vertical cuts worked the best. Yes, it had hurt like a bitch, but Hannah had hardly noticed. Rather, she hadn't had the energy to care about physical pain. The sorrow and despair slowly eating away at her heart and soul hurt more than any razor would.

The scars themselves were disgustingly ugly. No doubt, they would draw attention. And with that attention would come rumors and gossip. But what did she care? She was already the class slut. Genuinely, there was nothing anyone could say to make her life any more horrible. In fact, 'suicidal chick' might have been a step up from 'class slut.'

Though, knowing Liberty, she would be designated as the 'suicidal slut.'

"Hannah."

She slowly looked up to see her parents standing in her doorway. Her mom looked particularly frazzled, which wasn't really a surprise these days, and her dad looked like he didn't quite know what to say. Though, she couldn't blame him. Dad was never really eloquent on the best of days. And no one knew how to deal with her, not even herself.

But Hannah gave them the biggest smile she could manage. "Yeah?"

Her parents shared a look. "We've been talking," announced Mom. "And we feel as though you should see a therapist."

She allowed those words to sink in. A therapist. As in, someone to analyze her every word. As in, someone to pry into the deepest, darkest pits of her brain. As in, someone to talk to about why she decided to slits her wrists. Lovely. A therapist was the last thing she wanted.

But Hannah felt as though she had caused her parents enough trouble. So, she shrugged easily. "Sure," she agreed nonchalantly. "If that's what you guys want."

They shared a look again and Hannah really, really hated when they did that. Why did parents think that their kids didn't catch that? "We also wanted to talk to you about, maybe, transferring?" Dad suggested hesitantly.

This made her pause.

"Transferring?" repeated Hannah. She hadn't thought about transferring. She hadn't thought about education itself much at all. But to transfer from Liberty? She didn't know how to feel about that. "To where?"

"Sacred Heart," answered her mother. She was watching her closely.

Sacred Heart was the all-girls school on the other side of town. As in no boys. As in no Justin's or Marcus's or... or Bryce's. That also meant no stupid guys to get slapped over. It sounded pretty compelling. But still, something was stopping her from agreeing wholeheartedly. Something deep within what was left of her broken heart.

Hannah looked at them. "Can I think about it?" she asked quietly.

Mom gave her a small smile. "Of course," she assured her. "It was just a suggestion." They both looked like they wanted to hug her, but didn't and walked out of her room.

She watched them go with a heavy heart.

OoOoOo

Clay met Hannah at Eisenhower Park a few days after her discharge from the hospital.

A bit morbid on her part, after all this park started it all, but she couldn't think of anywhere else she wanted to be. Her house or his house was completely out of the question. The Crestmont and Monet's both lacked the privacy she craved. The park was quiet, especially at this time of night, and she trusted Clay. He wouldn't betray her trust. Not like Justin had.

Besides, she was wearing pants this time. That had to be a good sign.

Helmet rode up on his bike and the sight had Hannah torn between laughing or crying. He was just so... boyish. She had missed him. And not just since her suicide attempt, just in general. They had been growing distant lately, since Jessica's party. She had been so sure that he hadn't cared about her anymore (and honestly? She couldn't have blamed him) and she had found herself longing for his goofy, nerdy habits.

They were endearing.

Hannah managed to smile at him as he approached. "Hi, Helmet," she greeted softly. The nickname really did suit him. Though, she noticed that he wasn't wearing a helmet tonight. Odd.

Clay returned it, much more enthusiastically than her. "Hey," he greeted easily. Besides his obvious sadness, he always seemed happy to see her. A nice change from her parents, who were always so sad. It mended her broken heart, if only a little. "You wanted to talk to me about something?" It could have been a trick of the light, but she could have sworn that something passed over his face. Was he... mad at her?

Oh shit, was he? He hadn't seemed like it when he'd agreed to meet her. Then again, she didn't always know what Clay was thinking. He was genuine and kind, but he was also something of an enigma. Had the taped changed what he thought of her? Maybe he was looking at her differently now.

Maybe having him listen wasn't such a good idea...

Hannah shuffled her feet. "I... I know there were a lot of fucked up things on the tapes," she admitted. She was never really one to beat around the bush and she was dying (dark pun unintended) to know what he thought now.

If she was going to lose her best friend, she wanted to know as soon as possible.

Clay glanced down. "Yeah," he agreed. "There were." Tension-heavy silence settled between them.

"Hannah, I'm sorry-"

"Helmet, I understand if you never forgive me-"

They stopped, gazing at each other. Hannah was baffled; what did Clay have to be sorry for? He hadn't done anything. She had said that in his tape. It was her, she was the tainted one. The broken one. Disaster and misery followed her everywhere she went. She ruined everything she came into contact with. He was the good one, the pure one.

He tilted his head. "Forgive you?" he questioned. "For what? They treated you like shit, Hannah, and I-" He hung his head sadly and she felt the urge to hug him. A sad Clay made her sad too. "I let it happen."

Hannah sighed. "Helmet, high school sucks," she stated plainly. "I appreciate the sentiment, I do, but you couldn't have changed it." She looked away, unable to meet his eyes anymore. "Besides, you don't wanna be seen with the class slut." It would have put a target on his back and she would have never forgiven herself.

Clay bristled slightly as she said this. "You're not a slut," he insisted with a certain heat behind his words that startled her. He was usually a shy, quiet kid. He could snap, yes, but she'd never heard him defend her so readily. "Hannah, this is the whole problem. People-" He stopped. "I let things happen that never should've. There's no reason why I couldn't have defended you from those dicks. I..." He slowly reached forward and gently took her hands. "I'm sorry, Hannah."

She blinked back the tears that she didn't even know were there. A smile- the first real smile she'd felt in days- crept its way onto her lips. "Oh, Helmet, you have nothing to be sorry for," she assured him, squeezing his hands. Clay Jensen was a good kid. Probably the best kid. He hadn't done anything wrong.

But still, to hear an actual apology- even from someone who hadn't done anything- lifted a certain weight off her chest.

Hannah took a deep breath, collecting herself. She had to admit that while opening up to Clay was relieving, it was also scary. After Justin and after Zach, she was so afraid to let anyone back into her heart. She couldn't take another heartbreak. But... But this was Clay. Her helmet. He wouldn't intentionally hurt her.

She trusted him. In fact, she trusted him enough to be with him alone at night.

Hannah let go of his hands and nudge him in the shoulder. "Alright, enough depressing shit," she declared. "My parents are having me see a therapist. Can you believe it?"

Clay smiled at her. "Hey, they're not so bad," he pointed out. "I used to see one and Dr. Ellman was pretty cool. Confusing as hell, but cool."

She was about to ask him why he had seen a therapist, but thought better of it. She didn't want to pry and she didn't want him to think that she saw him differently. "Oh yeah?" she replied. "Well, if it's good enough for Helmet, it's good enough for me."

He playfully shoved her and Hannah laughed for the first time in... in a while. Things felt good with Clay. They felt easy. They felt right. With her Helmet by her side, she felt she could take on anything.

Maybe she could give life another chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO, I'm a little torn because I'm not sure if I want Hannah to transfer or stay at Liberty. In context, it would make sense for her to transfer, wouldn't it? But if she stays, I have a plan as to why... Let me know what y'all think. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know it's been a loooonnng time. I'm sorry. Please enjoy!

Her first therapy session was... okay.

The lady, Dr. Tether, was nice enough. She was probably in her mid-twenties with blond hair and warm brown eyes. Her voice was soft and coaxing and it reminded Hannah of how her mother used to talk to her when she was a child. If she cared enough, she might have taken offense to the tone. But, as it was, she honestly didn't give a fuck.

Dr. Tether wrote something down in her notepad. "So, you blame yourself for the passing of your friend?" she questioned gently.

Hannah winced, thinking of that awful night. Out of all the jocks, Jeff had been the most tolerable. He had deserved so much better. "I guess," she muttered, sinking into her seat.

She thought about that night a lot. What would have happened if she hadn't acted so cruelly to Clay? Maybe he wouldn't have left her alone in Jessica's room. Maybe they, being the dorks they were, would have ditched the party together on his bike. Maybe she wouldn't have needed to ask Sheri for a ride. Maybe she wouldn't have had to watch Bryce-

She forced herself out of her memory, meeting the woman's eyes. "I just feel like I was stupid to ask Sheri for a ride," she finished.

Dr. Tether nodded, then looked up from her pad. "Hannah, it's important that you realize there are some things we just can't control," she told her, peering at her very directly. "Were you the one driving?"

Hannah ran her right index finger over the light pink scar on her wrist. "Well, no," she answered quietly.

"And did you have access to a working phone?"

She took a deep breath. "No."

"And you tried your hardest to report the accident?"

Hannah winced, recalling how relieved she had been when she'd heard that the accident had already been reported. But then everything had fallen down around her when she had heard about Jeff's death. She had been too fucking late. God, she had taken Clay's best friend away from him. She had taken the love of Leah's life. And- fuck- his parents. She had gotten a taste of grieving parents after her failed suicide attempt and it was haunting.

To think that she had almost put her parents through the same thing. She had been so sure that her death would fix things. But if it destroyed her parents- her family- then how could it?

Dr. Tether sighed. "Hannah," she uttered. "These things happen. They're awful, but they happen. You're young, you do dumb things. Should Miss Holland have reported her accident? Yes. But she was scared and likely still is. Can you understand that?"

Could she understand being scared? Of course she could. She had been afraid when Tyler had been stalking her. She had been petrified whilst watching Bryce's assault on Jessica. She had been horrified when Bryce had cornered her in that fucking hot tub.

Fear was a powerful thing indeed. She hadn't told anyone what had happened to her or Jess for fear of what would happen. But Jeff had been innocent. And Sheri's actions had cost him his life. And the worst part was that she couldn't even own up to it, couldn't give his parents some semblance of closure.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I can understand that someone- someone with friends and parents and a girlfriend- is dead because of her," she snapped, suddenly angry all over again. It just... It just wasn't fucking fair. Why did she get to go on with her normal life when other people were suffering?

Why was it that people got to stomp on whoever they wanted and then walk away free?

Dr. Tether wrote that down. "I think that's all for today, dear," she decided. "Clearly, you suffer from depression and a mild case of anxiety. I'm prescribing you with Zoloft to help you manage these thoughts and feelings."

Hannah looked at her blankly. "So you're putting me on meds like a psycho?" she assumed. She didn't like the idea. She felt as though the medication would only give her a false sense of security. And once she ran out, the awful feelings she had would crash into her like a destructive wave. She also didn't want to get addicted to them, to be dependent on them.

Dr. Tether chuckled. "I'm guessing Liberty High doesn't give in-depth lessons on mental health," she quipped. "Hannah, there's nothing wrong with needing help. And if you're worried about addictions, I would recommend giving them to someone to hold and only taking them when you need to."

She thought about this for a second, then shrugged. "Whatever."

OoOoOo

When Hannah came out to the waiting room, Clay and Tony were expecting her. She blinked, walking over to them. "Hey, guys," she greeted in confusion. Her parents were busy today, so she had assumed that she would be walking home. After all, the office wasn't too far from her house. Just a couple of blocks. "What are you doing here?"

Clay offered her a smile. "We wanted to know how your first day went," he told her. They walked outside the practice and into the parking lot where Tony's bright red mustang was waiting.

Hannah shrugged as she climbed into the backseat. "It was okay," she mumbled, playing with the strap of her bag. "We talked about-" She stopped herself. It probably wasn't a good idea to bring up Sheri and Jeff to Clay. Yes, he knew about the tapes, but what if he blamed her? He had been so angry at her the day after.

So she settled on, "Things."

Tony's eyes flicked to her in the rear view mirror. "You got a shit ton of stuff from everyone at school," he told her, tactfully changing the subject. "Roses and cards and crap."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah?" She knew it was only a gesture to maintain reputation. No one gave a shit about her in that hell hole, but they weren't going to be seen as the asshole who didn't give the girl in the hospital a measly card. Even kids at Liberty had some set of standards, however low they were.

Also, she hated roses.

Hannah returned her attention to them. "And does anyone..." She swallowed thickly. "Does anyone know?"

She saw Clay and Tony share a glance, much like her parents had. "We don't think so," Clay finally spoke up. "At least, no one's said anything about it." He looked like he wanted to say more, but he shut his mouth.

There was something they weren't telling her. Christ, she didn't want them to sugarcoat things. She just wanted the truth, for once in her life. Lies and deception had large parts in contributing to the state she was in now.

Why couldn't anyone be straight with her?

"But..." prompted Hannah, narrowing her eyes.

"There's going to be rumors," Tony warned her. His gaze was diverted to the road. "You know how Liberty is." Of course she knew. Yet, agonizing dread filled her once again at the thought of being Liberty High's rumor mill. She wasn't sure if she could handle that again. "When you come back-"

"If," she interrupted without even thinking.

That got their attention.

Of course, Tony loved his baby too much to take his eyes off the road. But Clay stopped entirely, swiveling around to face her. "If?" he repeated, blue eyes wide. "What do you mean if?"

Hannah sighed, folding her hands into her lap. "My parents want me to transfer to Sacred Heart," she revealed slowly. She looked down at the floor of the car, unable to meet his eyes. She still hadn't decided if she wanted to transfer. She didn't want to leave Clay or Tony, they were all she had. She didn't want to start over. But...

But if she had to go to school with Bryce Walker walking the halls like he owned them, then her decision was already made.

OoOoOo

When Clay and Tony had dropped her home, Hannah was surprised to see that her mail box was stuffed. Shit, they hadn't been kidding. The cards were practically spilling out onto the porch. Sighing, she went to pick them up, gathering them into her arms. Walking into the house, she was aware of her father standing in the kitchen. "Hey, kiddo," he greeted.

Hannah nodded, unable to wave. "Hi, Dad." Setting the cards onto the table, she eyed the pile that was already there. "Shit, there's more?"

Dad frowned at her. "Language," he scolded. "And yeah, they've been coming all day. You must be popular."

She grimaced. "Sure." Maybe it was easier to let him think that. Sifting through the cards, she had to shake her head. They were either cheap dollar store cards or over the top, handmade ones that were obviously just trying for the gesture. She rolled her eyes.

That was Liberty for you.

There was a silent tension before her dad spoke again. "Hey, Han?"

Hannah was focused on the cards and didn't meet his eyes. There was one with a picture of a banana saying, 'Hope you're peeling better.' Seriously, how tacky could you get? "Hmm?"

He was quiet for a long time. "Was it because of Valerie?" he finally asked. She stilled completely. "Is that why you did it?"

For a long time, Hannah was too stunned to say anything. In all honesty, she had almost forgotten about her father's mistress with everything going on. Was she still angry about him for cheating? Maybe. But he had told Mom and she had forgiven him. So why wouldn't she? There was something in her chest, however, that still flared up at the thought of him seeing her.

Why had he done it in the first place? Weren't they good enough for him?

But no, she couldn't do this right now. She didn't want to face the possibility of her parents' potentially crumbling marriage. She had too much to deal with right now and she so did not want to talk to her dad about it.

So, Hannah shrugged. "Nope," she answered, popping the 'p.' She attempted to distract herself by returning her attention to the cards.

"Hannah, I'm sorry," her father tried.

"Doesn't matter, Dad." She was barely listening as she thumbed through the cards. One, in particular, caught her eye. Something about the handwriting seemed almost... familiar to her. She stopped, picking it up and opening it. Instantly, her stomach dropped and she couldn't breathe.

'Hey Baker, heard about what happened. Sorry about that. Hope to see you around soon, maybe we could chill in my hot tub again.'  
-Bryce

A few things happened at once.

Her dad put a hand on her shoulder. That turned out to be a mistake as she backhanded him as hard as she could. Suddenly, she wasn't in her kitchen anymore. It was dark and warm water surrounded her. She was turned around, forced onto her kneed as a body much larger than hers covered her back. She could feel it- could feel him- forcing his way inside her as-

Hannah was unaware that she was vomiting until after the fact. The leftover bile burned in her throat and she coughed painfully. Tears welled in her eyes, but she couldn't tell if it was from throwing up or the memory that had been forced upon her. She leaned against the kitchen counter, the tears blurring her vision and the world spinning around her.

When things finally settled into place, she felt nothing less than shitty. Her eyes darted from Bryce's fucking card to her dad, who was holding his now red cheek.

Her bottom lip trembled. "I-I'm s-sorry," she whimpered before turning around and dashing up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, things are getting rough, huh? It's one of those 'it's gonna get worse before it gets better.' And that's a fact. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually counting on this story being pretty long, if enough people like it. If not, I'll leave it as is. Anyway, I hope you liked it and please review!


End file.
